Defile Me

seventeen: the oak tree

"YOU'VE BEEN QUIET."

I drew a sip from my glass. "There's just a lot on my mind."

Telling him about me and Cole's break would've caused a complete conversation that I didn't have any time for.

Instead, I fabricated my way around the words and told him we had a small argument which was mildly true, leaving out the part where we were on break.

Father hummed, drawing the napkin from his patch pocket to wipe the food stain above his lip. "Well, you'll need an empty head for the ball this weekend."

"Ball?"

"Yes, it's a masquerade ball, it's being funded by me and others as well, it's for charity."

Maserquade Ball. I hadn't gone to one in a while. Usually, there was one to raise money for charity; all the rich people pitched in — like my father — to seem like they had a heart.

I swiveled my fork around the pasta, "Sounds like a scam. Since when was charity your thing?"

A chuckle left his mouth as he stood, "Since charity got my numbers up in voting. Thought you knew this by now."

"Knew what?.."

"No one is doing something unless it doesn't benefit them. Remember that."

I backed out from my seat. "Not everyone is like you Dad."

"Because not everyone can be me."

I didn't bother to respond. Nor did I bother to disagree. My father had been full of himself, and when he was full of himself, you never really get the chance to make your point across.

"Great Dad. I've got to go." I swiftly wiped my mouth with a napkin, slinging my backpack, which was sitting near the dinner table, across my shoulder.

"And where are you heading off to?"

"Tutoring. It's a late session."

He picked out his glasses, resting them on the bridge of his nose. "Ah, you're wasting your knowledge and time on others rather than putting it towards school."

"I've fulfilled all my schoolwork."

"I was speaking of college. You're a senior, aside from dual enrollment, you haven't put any time or effort into college."

The chauffeur stood in the foyer, waiting for me as I listened to my father ramble on about foolish things that I'd heard him say many times before. "Dad, I'll be late, see you when I get home."

"You won't, I'll be away attending to business."

Humming, I stepped away and left out the front door. The driver had opened the car door for me as we arrived at the concrete driveway. I thanked him, dodging my head while I entered.

Myles and I had subtly agreed on meeting at the school library, after hours. The reason I say subtly is because we had only needed to spare a few words to each other at school and came to the conclusion about when and where we'd tutor.

The car came to a halt. "We're here, Ms. Salvador."

"Thank you, Henry."

"What time will you be done?"

I stepped out of the car, "I'll be fine, if I'm in need of a ride, I'll call."

I was at the gate of the school, I didn't have Myle's number, we just agreed on a time to arrive and left it at that. I knew he'd come, I just wasn't sure when.

The school didn't particularly leave the library open all hours, but when you're pretty close to the librarian, it kind of comes in handy — she told me she'd leave the door unlocked for my session.